


Dessert

by SweetTARDIS



Series: Brienne's birthday Celebration [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Food Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22212694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetTARDIS/pseuds/SweetTARDIS
Summary: After a sensual massage and a sumptuous dinner, it's now time for dessert.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Brienne's birthday Celebration [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594750
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Dessert

Brienne leaned across the table to kiss him. “This has turned out to be the best birthday I’ve ever had,” she gushed, her blue eyes sparkling with contentment, her face flushed with warmth and a beautiful after-glow only an oil-massage, a pleasurable round of sex and a luxurious bath could bring on. “It was wonderful, Jaime. Every minute of it.” 

Jaime brought his thumb to her lips. “ _Was?”_ He planted a kiss on her cheek before descending to the corner of her mouth. “The night is still on, my dear.” He began caressing her lips, gently, seductively, using just the tip of his thumb whilst continuing to shower her mouth with countless tender kisses. They were no more than soft pecks, each a touch that barely met her skin, yet the effect they had on him was mind-blowing. Horny all over again in anticipation, he revealed with an air of mystery, “Mind you, we’re not done yet,” unable to wait anymore to put into action the rest of whatever he had in store for them.

Setting down her glass of wine, she broke away from his kiss, the glow and the look of peaceful bliss on her face, taking a backseat when she sighed, “Doing the dishes together, you mean?”, her words weary and drawn-out. “And after that, it’ll be time to sleep and wake up to another gruelling day tomorrow.”

Making a face, she got up to arrange the used dishes and plates into a neat pile. When she made her way to the kitchen, he followed, calling out, “I mean we’re not done yet with dinner, wench.” 

Distracted in her chore of arranging the dirty utensils in the sink, she turned to him with a look of surprise.

“Don't you want some yummy dessert?” he tempted her, unable to hold back a smile and a wink. 

When she kept on looking at him with narrowed brows and a question mark in her eyes, he brought out the chocolate cake he’d kept aside for the right moment and set it on the counter. “Come on,” he said, grabbing her arm and dragging her away from the sink. “The dirty dishes aren't going anywhere.” She stood by him, watching, while he lit a single candle and dimmed the lights. “A birthday’s never complete without a cake, so here it is.” He stepped aside, studying her, awaiting her reaction.

Her smile, as she drew closer, was probably the warmest she’d given him in days. “Jaime--”

“Make a wish first,” he whispered in her ear, standing close behind her as he handed her the knife.

Wrapping his other arm around her waist, he gave her earlobe a nip and the under-side of her ear, an impulsive flick of his tongue. Again, it was no more than the tip of his tongue, but she twitched, her instant reaction setting him on fire, leaving his cock aching for more of her tonight. He pressed closer to her, pinning her to the counter, letting her know how hard he was for her. Ever since she had stepped out of the shower, he'd found it difficult to tear his eyes off her. How sexy she looked, wearing his shirt… nothing but it, nothing underneath, nothing beneath it! It was at times like this that their height difference worked to his advantage. His shirt wasn’t enough to cover her, and that she wasn’t wearing panties was an added turn-on for him. Grinding his dick against her ass, he nuzzled her neck whilst his right hand gripped hers over the knife she was holding.

“Go on,” he breathed down her neck, his cock twitching, the hairs on his chest rising in attention in anticipation of her reaction. How he loved to torture her like this! To make her shiver and tremble and quake in his arms was a pleasure he couldn’t forego. He let his mouth make itself at home on whatever bit of bare skin he could reach. “Cut the cake.”

Her fingers shaking under his, she bent to blow out the candle.

“Happy birthday, honey,” he softly wished her, his words just for her as was this moment which was so private and intimate.

She shifted in his arms, angling herself just enough to reach out and feed him a piece of the creamy cake. Nibbling away just a tiny bite, he took the rest of it and brought it to her mouth. But before she could take it in, he smeared it all over her lips, her cheeks and on her chin.

“Jaime!” she complained, scandalised, eyeing his icing-covered fingers and the crumbs that were left over, the only remaining bits of the cake on his hand that was now all over her face. “You can’t make a mess like that--”

He pressed his mouth to hers, licking the flakes of chocolate covering her lips. If it tasted this divine on her mouth, he wondered what it might be like to eat it off the rest of her, her pretty neck, those sexy nipples, her flat abdomen… 

_The best meal ever… the most intoxicating dessert to have ever slipped past his tongue.._

The rest of her objection dissolved into a hungry moan in his mouth when she succumbed to his advances, turning to face him so he could kiss her properly, sinking into his embrace. Parting her mouth, she invited him in, and he thrust his tongue far into the warm depths he’d craved all along, tasting and enjoying the wonderful combination of chocolate and _her_ , devouring the cake off her, the sensation bringing to life all his nerve endings, his body bursting into flames he’d never want to extinguish. He dragged his right hand along her neck, spreading chocolate and cream across her collarbone before moving further down and hitting the barrier of her shirt. _To hell with it,_ he decided. Caring a damn about his shirt, he started to run his fingers all over her chest, sliding further down to palm her breast--

“Jaime!” 

She pulled away to look down at the messy pattern he’d created on the pristine shirt. “Look at what you’ve done--”

“Let’s get the damn thing off your body if it bothers you,” he growled, fumbling with her top buttons. “Because it certainly does drive me crazy, meeting this fucking intrusion when I want to feel your skin on mine, my mouth all over your body, my cock deep inside you--” 

She coyly bit her lip. “Haven’t you had enough of me for tonight?”

“I can never have enough of you, darling.” He began panting, his arousal leaving very little of his brain functional. “So it’s either this shirt or your body,” he threatened, eager to peel it off her, determined to give her the whole chunk of what he’d intended. “Choose.”

Brienne paused for a second, then a shy smile playing her lips, she helped him unbutton the rest her shirt, and before long, it flopped to the floor, to be abandoned there for the rest of the night. Before Jaime could make his next move, she cut herself a second slice of cake and smeared it on cheek and mouth, the devilish glint in her eyes contrasting the bashful smile she wore.

So she wanted to get even!

He grabbed her wrist when she glided down to his chest. “If you wanna play, why don’t you play properly?” Yanking her hand away, he untied his bathrobe and shrugged it off. As naked as her with his dick aching and throbbing, he brought her hand to his mouth, pressing her into the hard counter, reducing the gap between them to almost nothing. “You can do me now,” he invited, licking her thumb first, then her index finger slowly and sensually. “I am all yours, wench.” He moved to the rest of her fingers, polishing the cake off her skin. “I will always be yours,” he said, sucking on her wrist.

The next few minutes were the messiest and most erotic Jaime had ever lived. Their hands were all over each other - his arms, his chest, her breasts, her stomach and… between her thighs. So was the cake, leaving its sticky trail wherever their fingers travelled. Giving him no chance to make his next move, Brienne was the first to begin their slow feast of lust. Shedding away her shy wife persona, she claimed her dessert starting with his cheek, then trailing down to take his lip between hers.

“Fuck,” he gasped, when she began sucking and licking him, her lingering, wandering hands spreading the cake across his chest. “I never thought cake could be this arousing.” Her mouth was all over, he felt her moans and breaths on his skin, scorching him, leaving him with a tingling sensation all over and a painfully hard cock to cope with. Ruthless and relentless, she kept going, and grunts and helpless groans to counter her sexy moans and laboured breathing were the only answers he had for this pleasurable onslaught. His neck was under attack, her smoldering tongue setting off little electric shocks all over his sensitive throat before she took to assaulting his chest. One hand reaching out to fondle her breast, he ran the other around her back, clutching her tight and firm when she went down his abs. And then she bent lower to press a kiss to his crotch, her mouth scraping his balls--

Gritting his teeth to summon all the self-control he could, he grabbed the back of her neck and jerked her away. “You’re not going any further,” he growled, fearing he might come apart in her mouth if she kept going at this rate. Tonight was about her. Her pleasure. He couldn’t let her do this. He couldn’t give in to his impatience and rapidly waning resistance. “Because it’s my turn now to devour you,” he answered her questioning eyes, before hoisting her off the ground and seating her on the counter. The tip of his dick brushed her mound, and he shuddered, his shaft throbbing, straining to be where it belonged and end this agony. As much as he ached to bring this ordeal to a fucking end and rid himself of this pain, he wanted desperately to prolong this as much as he could, to try and make it a memorable night for them both.

He began sucking her lips again, wanting nothing more than to melt into her, to feel her skin burn into his, her breath mingle with his. “Oh, you taste so good,” he breathed, kissing and nibbling down her neck. 

When his tongue fluttered across the pointy, taut edge of her nipple, she squirmed adorably and made this little throaty noise that usually involuntarily escaped her whenever he pampered her breasts. She liked being touched there. And he liked touching her there. And licking her until she was all hard and pebbly there. And nibbling. And sucking the chocolate off her pretty little tits. “Oh, fuck,” she cursed, when his mouth closed over her breast. “This feels so good,” she purred, blissfully caressing his back when he took her nipple between his lips. He sucked on it, pulling it, prodding it with his teeth until he could feel its stiffness in his mouth. “Ahh, yes,” came her contented response, when he released it with a wet pop to move on to the other breast. “Keep going,” she begged, pulling him closer, another satisfied sigh leaving her mouth when he began meting out the same treatment to the other nipple.

He kissed her all over, down her ribs, on her stomach, around her navel, dipping down to her lower abdomen when he had satisfactorily licked her clean wherever he’d been so far. Spreading her legs apart, he went down on his knees to kiss her inner thigh, his fingers lavishing her knee with touches so gentle that she purred and moaned and whimpered. He settled down into a slow rhythmic pattern, his mouth gradually working his way up, licking and sucking her sensitive skin, wiping away the chocolate as he ascended. No sooner did his lips brush her folds, than she shook; so violently that she almost lost her balance and fell off her perch.

Steadying her with his other arm around her waist, he placed a soft kiss to her opening then pulled back, his sudden retreat punished with a thirsty growl and an inpatient squeeze of her legs.

Oh, how he loved the way she got all worked up with just a flicker of his touch! He’d torture her, kiss her to death, make her crave her release... 

“Oh, fuck, Jaime, stop being such a tease,” she cried out in frustration, bringing her hand to his head. Tousling his hair in desperation, she pushed his face back to her crotch, urging him to go on, begging him not to stop.

Jaime, however, was in no mood to give in to her pleas, and what followed was slow, sweet torture, both for him and her. Whilst his fingers took to caressing and stroking the inner, sensitive part of her thigh, he covered her cunt with kiss after kiss, staying outside, forcing himself not to stray, not to enter, not until he took them to a point of combustion.

His lips moved all over, up and down, left and right, soft and tender, sliding along her slit, and she gripped his shoulder hard; he could feel the pressure build up inside her. There was no sound, but their heavy breathing for a while. There was nothing else to feel but the thick air of sexual tension around them, waiting to be resolved, waiting to explode and blow them to bits. There was no smell but that of chocolate and her sweet arousal. There was no taste, but the taste of her on his tongue and something beyond that; something that would linger within him for days to come.

Things soon began getting out of hand. With every touch and every flick of his tongue, her gasps grew more desperate and her moans louder. He could feel her muscles throbbing around him, itching to have him inside her - his entire length, the wetness creeping along the edge of her folds, a sign that she wasn’t going to last much longer. And when the tip of his tongue met her clit, she quivered in pleasure. When he ran it along the swollen pearly centre of pleasure, stimulating it, stroking it, she yanked out a hair or two off his head, gripping him hard, squeezing him between her legs and knocking the air out of his lungs. 

When he plunged his tongue into her, she screamed his name. A loud and lust-filled throaty growl of pure feral desire only _he_ could bring out in a woman who was, otherwise, classy and sophisticated. He fucked her with his tongue. He was slow and gentle. He was hard and rough and demanding. He drank her in, he consumed her, his tortured, pulsating dick battling the hard, cold granite it was forced to engage with, impatient to get into the soft warmth of her core, eager to pleasure her and bring him the respite he needed.

But that could wait. His cock would have its turn.

For now, he took to eating his way in and out of her, the filth her mouth spewed with every thrust, the noises she made and the way she ran her hands up and down his back, egging him on, to torment her until she broke.

“ _Jaime_.”

It was a strangled cry, a sign that she was about to surrender, an indication for him to withdraw and give her what she deserved.

Pure pleasure. The best birthday present he could give her; he'd ever given her.

Jerking his face away from her, he got to his feet and began kissing her, giving her a taste of herself, of his need for her. Spreading her legs further apart, he pushed in, sliding into her, moaning, in satisfaction, bliss and the burning need to seek the relief of her wet depth, when his dripping tip disappeared into her. His arms went around her hips, holding her tightly against him as he went further in, giving her his full length in a slick fluid motion.

“Oh,” he gasped, taking in the sensation of being sheathed to his balls, the heavenly feeling of being one with her. 

He didn’t move for a while, feeling her against him, savouring their intimacy.

And when he did, the pressure of her throbbing walls around his shaft drove him to the edge, making him want to fuck her like she’d never been fucked before, tempting him to make love to her like never before. She bit her lip, grinding her body against his, riding his cock, fucking his mouth with her tongue, her hips gyrating to the the rhythm he was building up as he began pounding her, hard and rough, just the way she always wanted him to. She slammed back into him when he thrust. She arched her chest into his when he stepped up his pace. She dug her nails deep into his back when he cupped her breasts, leaving into his mouth, a little moan of satisfaction when his fingers crept up right where she always wanted them to be, playing, teasing, torturing her nipples.

Massages had never been more arousing. Wine had never been more intoxicating. Cake had never tasted better. Sex had never been this fiery and passionate… and his wife had never been more desirable.

Life had never been more blissful.

Together, immersed in each other, they danced to the tune of love and lust, their mouths glued to each other, their bodies building up the tempo on this never-ending mating game they were locked in, their gasps, their sighs, their moans and their screams reaching a crescendo, merging into one when they came closer and closer...

She was the first to succumb to this long-drawn dance or duel of lust or whatever it was that he had begun, collapsing into his arms, holding on to him for support as she could no longer balance herself nor control her shaking body.

He followed soon after, hugging her tightly, burying his face between her breasts, breathing in the sweet scent of her sweat, soap and chocolate. Not bothering to slide out of her, he held her for many long seconds, letting himself be swept away by the by the blistering aftermath of his climax.

“You’re beautiful, Brienne,” he whispered, brushing his lips against hers when he looked up at her flushed face, red with beads of sweat, her heavy eyelids and kiss-swollen battered lips.

She giggled, her laughter, music to his ears. “And you’re the biggest liar I’ve ever met. Anyone with a functional pair of eyes can see that I’m far from beautiful, a plain, ordinary--”

He caught her lips in another kiss, silencing the inferiority complex she’d suffered for years, showing her he desired her more than anything else in this whole fucking world. “You’re the most beautiful woman in this world, wench,” he said again when he released her, sliding his hands up and down her sweat-covered back. “No one can argue with me on that.” He pressed another soft kiss on her mouth. “Not even you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you,” she said, fondly messing up his hair, “for the loveliest birthday I’ve ever had.”

Thinking about what he’d planned next, Jaime tossed her a naughty wink before playfully tugging at one of her nipples. “Oh, there’s more to come, wench. There are still a couple of hours left before your birthday comes to an end, so you just wait and see...”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and stay tuned for the next part in case you're interested in reading more of this.


End file.
